


with benefits

by norio



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norio/pseuds/norio
Summary: Bokuto wouldn't have thought he'd have a series of one-night stands with Akaashi.





	

Bokuto made eye contact with Akaashi. In 0.1 seconds, Akaashi’s mouth twitched in the familiar ‘what are the chances I could pretend not to have seen him, but we made direct eye contact, he knows I know he knows I know, so l will be polite and greet him in some attempt to salvage the night.’ In 0.5 seconds, Akaashi greeted him coolly. In ten minutes, they would walk out of the café. In half an hour, Bokuto would be receiving a wet and sloppy blowjob from his cute junior in a love hotel.

As far as he could recall, the conversation went like this: 

“I didn’t expect to see you here! Guess we haven’t had a chance to talk since my high school graduation. It’s great you joined the uni volleyball team! You get to see the great me, up close and personal! We’re back together again!” 

“Yes.”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just here to grab some coffee. Ah, don’t tell Kuroo! Shh, shh! He’ll get mad because he says I’m all jittery. Last time I got some coffee, he jumped over the table to knock it out of my hands.”

“Is that so.”

“I saw real fear in his eyes, Akaashi. Real fear. But I’m not that jittery, it’s just that it’s been busy with everything, and I haven’t had the time to really sit down and jack off or anything like that. I usually rub one out once a day, too, since it’s been hard.” 

“I see.”

“Oh, well, not—yeah, I guess, literally hard, but also, you know. Hard to concentrate, stuff like that. Anyway, great seeing you! Let’s talk more at practice, too! I think that’s my coffee.” 

“Very well,” Akaashi said, standing up and grabbing his bag. “I’ll suck you off.” 

“Hm?” 

Which was how they ended up in the love hotel lobby, where Akaashi gazed impassively at the big screen of rooms and said, “It doesn’t matter as long as it’s cheap,” and then added, “Oh, this one has a nice chair,” and chose a room with a chair that looked like a big cotton ball. 

And when Bokuto sat at the edge of the bed, Akaashi pulled down his waistband, took a critical look, and said, “It’s big,” in a flat tone, neither a complaint nor a compliment, and wrapped his mouth around the tip. It didn’t take long to set Bokuto off, and Akaashi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He then visited the bathroom, returned to the main room, looked at his watch, and then sat down on the big cotton ball of a chair to read his book. 

“Hm,” Bokuto said. Akaashi glanced up, unmoved in the cushions of the cotton ball. Bokuto squinted across the room, but he took pride in his unusually good vision, which the pediatrician had said was ‘abnormally good’ and that there was ‘no reason he kept jumping off tables.’ But this was definitely Akaashi Keiji—his setter in high school, still his junior in university. Akaashi with the soft voice, stack of notebooks, dismissive glare, two bento boxes, zipped up jacket, and now swollen and reddened lips from his suck-off session. 

It felt a little wrong because this was Akaashi. And even though Bokuto did feel better, the tension of his shoulders and legs relieved, at what cost? Other than the resting price of the hotel room? And possibly for that cup of coffee, where he only drank half and then choked over the scalding percolated beans when he realized Akaashi was not only serious, he was already heading towards a love hotel down the street? 

“Is something the matter?” Akaashi asked softly. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto told the wall, “I’m trying to think things through. I mean, Akaashi, it’s really you, right? Not someone else? Not someone else disguised as you? Say something only Akaashi would say!” 

“There’s no need to think so hard.” Akaashi flipped the page in his book, disinterested again. “Are you feeling better?” 

“Well. Yeah. I guess.” 

“Then it’s fine. Leave the rest to me.” Akaashi rested against the fluffy chair. Bokuto watched him, and then shrugged. Made sense, leave the rest to Akaashi. Bokuto wandered to the bathroom to wash his hands and comb up his hair, and they left the hotel half an hour later. All in all, a succinct day. 

  


* * *

  


Akaashi was actually a quick texter. Bokuto had no expectations otherwise when he finished his typo-ridden text about how, if it was okay, it’s just, everything had been busy and he’d been feeling kind of pent-up and it was more than a little wrong that the vegetables at the bottom of the refrigerator were starting to look erotic, no carrot should ever look so phallic, if it was fine with Akaashi, then, the next time Akaashi was free, maybe hopefully in an hour or so, they could meet at the café again and maybe, if Akaashi wanted to, though he was under no obligation to anyone, but if he was still fine with it, then maybe they could do it again. 

[Ok.] was Akaashi’s response, barely a second after Bokuto finished pressing send. 

This time, Akaashi chose the room on the basis of the canopy bed’s curtains. They were purple and velvet. Akaashi rubbed the fabric between his forefinger and thumb. 

It wasn’t like they had this kind of relationship in high school. Even after Akaashi joined the university, they hadn’t had the chance to really talk all that much. Accidentally bumping into Akaashi at the café was the first time they had actually chatted without being surrounded by their teammates. And now Akaashi was going down on him with a swirling tongue. It was slightly disconcerting. 

After he was done with the bathroom, Akaashi paused in front of the vending machine. 

“Are there drinks?” Bokuto asked, rolling onto his side. “You should get green tea! You drank that at lunch in high school, right?” 

“Yes,” Akaashi said. “But this doesn’t have green tea.” 

“Is there barley tea?”

“No.”

“What’s it got?”

“Lubricant,” Akaashi said, “and panties.” 

There was a television at the foot of the bed. Bokuto chose an action movie and set the volume down low, but Akaashi didn’t seem disturbed from his book. This time, Akaashi sat on the bed beside him and flipped the pages. 

“How many times do you masturbate in a week?” Bokuto asked, remote resting on his stomach. The action star dodged a spray of bullets, rolling behind oil drums. 

“It varies.” Akaashi flipped his page. “Two or three times on average. It depends on the constraint of my schedule.” 

“That sounds normal. Right?” Bokuto watched the action star heroically leap across the buildings. “Sometimes I kinda worry that if I date someone, they’ll think once a day is too much. I dunno. It wasn’t this bad in high school, which is kinda weird, right?” 

“Not really.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“What if I said I was horny again right now?” Bokuto glanced at him, tearing away from where the movie star stared down at his enemy. Akaashi slipped the thread bookmark over his page and shut his book.

“I’d say my jaw is still tired,” Akaashi said quietly, “but if my hand will do, we can do that.” 

“Oh,” Bokuto said, as Akaashi climbed into his lap and reached for his belt again. “Cool.”

  


* * *

  


The next time, they both huddled in front of the vending machine. Akaashi bent down with his elbows on his knees, and Bokuto rested his arms on top of Akaashi’s head. The different styles of lingerie had been printed on plastic colorful cards. Bokuto pointed to a frilly pink bra and panties set, pattern woven and floral, garish lace decorating around the waist like a ruffle skirt. 

“That’s the best one.” 

“I see.”

“Which one do you like?”

Akaashi considered this a while longer, and then pointed to a slim black see-through panties with a large bow in the back. 

“It’d be better,” Akaashi said, “if it had studs around the sides.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Bokuto said. 

“Do you like panties?”

“I guess I’m neutral on them. Hey, wait, no. I got an opinion.” Bokuto frowned. “If I wore them, wouldn’t they get stuck in my butt crack? That’s like a wedgie.” 

“I see,” Akaashi said. “What if I wore them?”

“Wouldn’t they get stuck in your butt crack?” 

After Akaashi sucked him off, Bokuto insisted on trying to give him a blowjob, too, even though he’d never done it before. He hoped that it would be like flying receives, a little bit, or at least the way he lunged forward. Akaashi sat against the head of the bed, beside the discreet box of tissues and the indiscreet magic wand. Bokuto helpfully slid down his waistband to his thighs, taking the girth in his hand. He rubbed it tentatively. 

“You just did your laundry, right? It kinda smells like detergent. Wait, is that weird to say?”

“I did my laundry yesterday.” 

“That’s really responsible,” Bokuto said mournfully. “Since I moved here, I got a lot of trouble figuring out how to do that sort of thing. Laundry, dishes, going to classes, practice. Makes it hard to jerk off.” He pressed his tongue against the underside of the shaft, but it didn’t taste as strange as he thought. More like skin and warmth. 

“Well,” Bokuto continued, “I can blame you, right? You always took care of stuff in high school, like the planning and the cleaning. You spoiled me too much, Akaashi!” 

“Is that so,” Akaashi said. If Bokuto didn’t know better, Akaashi would have sounded amused. But when he looked up, soft tip still in his mouth, Akaashi had a neutral expression on his face, mouth a straight ‘I won’t laugh, I’m not amused, I’m not laughing.’ 

“Geh,” Bokuto said. “Pay attention! I’ve never done this before, Akaashi! You gotta tell me stuff, too.” 

“It’s fine. You can take it slow—oh.” Akaashi blinked when Bokuto took him entirely in his mouth, sucking with a sulky vengeance. He just tried to imitate what Akaashi had done for him, with the jerking hand and languid tongue until Akaashi’s face grew red. 

After all, Bokuto was very good at flying receives. 

  


* * *

  


“That’s just wrong,” Bokuto said. Akaashi gave him a blank look, and then turned back to the room-choosing screen again. He seemed torn between a low-hanging purple lamp and a round bed. More importantly, he had his setter dog shirt underneath his jacket, the familiar head of the dog sticking out. Bokuto stared down the fabric doggy eyes. 

“It reminds me of high school,” Bokuto complained in the quiet hallway, after Akaashi had chosen the strange purple lamp. “Makes me feel like I should really look out for you. Not in the sexy way.”

“So what would you consider sexy, Bokuto-san.”

“I don’t know! Don’t ask me that! I’ll think about it all day.” Bokuto toed off his shoes in the room. “I guess I consider you sexy. In general, I mean.”

“Nothing specific?” 

“Well,” Bokuto said, staring at the purple light. “When you eat lunch during practice, now, you sometimes have some rice stuck to your finger. And then you lick it off. That’s sexy.”

Akaashi made a soft acknowledging sound, smoothly removing his shirt. He gazed down at the setter dog shirt before folding it neatly.

“Honestly, I’d like to besmirch this memory of yours,” Akaashi said softly, too softly for Bokuto to know if he was talking to himself or not. 

“If you’re going to take your shirt off, I’m gonna, too,” Bokuto said, not to be outdone, and then considered. “Are your nipples sensitive? I mean, just getting chafed isn’t sensitive. Like, erotically sensitive.” 

“I understood as much,” Akaashi said dryly. “I’m not sure. Are yours?” 

“Don’t know. Wanna try?” 

It was sexy to watch Akaashi’s fingers brush over the nub, moving in slow circles, but it didn’t do much for him without the sight. But when Bokuto sucked lightly on Akaashi’s nipple, hand pressed against his side, Akaashi’s breath hitched and his mouth was distinctly a ‘this is nicer than I thought it would be like, I think I might really like this’ sort of line. Bokuto laughed gleefully, face against Akaashi’s chest. 

“Now I know your soft spot,” Bokuto said smugly, raising a hand for a high-five. Akaashi reluctantly raised his hand for a slow and elaborate high-five, but it was worth it. Or at least until Akaashi discovered that when he ran his fingers slowly down the small of Bokuto’s back, that he would pant and groan slightly into the pillow, which made Akaashi blink, and then smirk. Then it was really worth it. 

  


* * *

  


Since they had both just left the gym, sweaty and tired, it was only reasonable to use the hotel’s bathtub. Bokuto finished rinsing and slipped into the bath, where he had gathered an impressive collection of bubbles. Akaashi eyed the overflowing bubbles with a clear ‘this is very impractical’ twist of his mouth, but he sat on the stool and undid the kinks in the showerhead without mentioning the bubbles creeping towards his feet. Bokuto thought Akaashi’s bare feet were nice. He didn’t usually see them, since group baths were clustered by year. Akaashi had a nice pinky toe. 

“Were you talking to the other guy about something?” Bokuto asked, dangling his arm out. “I had to wait for a long time outside.” 

“He invited me to a group date.” Akaashi twisted the showerhead to a gentler spray. “I declined.”

“Oho.” Bokuto leaned back into his throne of bubbles. “Why’s that? You’d be a big hit, Akaashi! You play volleyball. Guys who play volleyball are popular. And you’re a really great setter!”

“I wasn’t interested.” Akaashi turned off the water and eyed the bubbling bathtub. Slowly, he slipped a foot inside, and then stepped fully into the tub. He knelt over Bokuto’s chest, back against his raised knees. He flicked a few bubbles out of the way, the white spray hitting the gray tiled wall. 

“I guess I’m kinda relieved.” Bokuto shaped himself a bubble beard. “I’d be worried if your date would treat you nicely.” 

Akaashi paused, glancing at him quietly, and then braced himself on the bathtub sides, relaxing until he was almost sitting on Bokuto. The feeling was nice. With the warm water and the feeling of Akaashi’s legs against his sides, muscular and strong and smooth, Bokuto felt very pleased. 

“They still have an opening, if you wish to attend,” Akaashi said indifferently. He closed his eyes.

“Nah, I got volleyball. I’m busy, busy busy.” Bokuto raised his hands out of the water, letting the suds cling to his wrists, to touch the curve of Akaash’s hip. “Besides, people aren’t like you.” 

“I thought you would be happy about that,” Akaashi said. In the quiet bathroom, his voice was like the silky water running underneath the mass of frothing foam. A trickle of water ran down his chest, slowly running down the muscles of his stomach. 

“I guess,” Bokuto said, watching the droplet of water. “Since I got into university, it’s been weird. Like I have a bunch of people that I could call and I can play volleyball, but I don’t think they’d really want to hang out with me outside of that. They don’t really care that much, but that’s okay. It’s just, sometimes I get in these moods, right, and it just seems unfair.” 

“Unfair?” When Akaashi breathed, his chest would rise and fall. In the clean water, his shoulder blades would press against Bokuto’s knees. 

“If people don’t really care that much, then they shouldn’t have to deal with my moods.” Bokuto was distracted by Akaashi’s glistening chest. “They don’t deserve that.” 

Akaashi finally opened his eyes. He had some droplets on his eyelashes, too, dangling like crystals. Bokuto watched, mesmerized. Akaashi sat up. Water and suds cascaded down the sides. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed him. His mouth was soft. 

While pumping his hand around Akaashi’s dick, Bokuto’s elbow accidentally hit a switch. He started at the sudden lighting from underneath the bathtub, a revolving glow of green, purple, red, and circling through the rainbow. 

“This is gonna make me dizzy,” Bokuto said, “but it’s kinda hot to see you like this, so I’m gonna keep it.” Akaashi had been sitting, erection half-raised out of the water, and the rainbow lights only seemed accentuate the soft shadows on his clavicle, his chest, the rolling, luxuriant shifting of his hips. He considered this new information at the gentle green glow, and placed his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder by the time the light slid into an aqua blue. He didn’t complain when Bokuto got too dizzy and had to rest on the bed, and only pulled the wicker chair forward to sit and read beside him. 

  


* * *

  


The room with the round bed was finally available. It was as circular as it appeared in the picture, with a circular pillow with a stitched happy face. Akaashi had a stare down with the threaded eyes before he placed the pillow, face down, on the bed. Since the bed was already flat on the floor, Bokuto easily crawled over the other round pillows.

“I actually haven’t been doing this much,” Bokuto said, panting. He spread his legs out wider, pumping his dick between his legs. Akaashi had gone for mostly kneeling on the towel, one hand stroking himself and the other holding himself steady. 

“I see,” Akaashi murmured. He had a steady technique, long strokes for his shaft and quick pumps around the head. He tugged with due diligence, ducking down occasionally to breathe in heavy gasps. 

“I mean, it’s not like we—we do this, everyday,” Bokuto said. “But ever since we started doing it, it feels like I do it—less.” His own hand was sabotaging him, rolling and tight. Akaashi’s gaze was interested, flickering with a heavy focus towards his groin, which only made Bokuto feel even more sweltering. 

“Is that good or bad,” Akaashi said, breathily, fingers tightening on the sheets. He had an unusual flush to his cheeks, hair rucked up. 

“Good, I guess. Used to just go home from practice and jerk off and sleep, and now I—I got this,” Bokuto said, and then, trepidatiously: “Thanks, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi’s gaze flickered to his face, and his mouth was still slightly parted when he kissed him. It was enough of a prompt for Bokuto to kiss back, wild and uninterrupted. He pressed his cock against Akaashi’s, feeling the way it throbbed in response, and thrusted his hand over them both. It felt slick and sticky between his fingers. His ministrations were clumsy, palm not wide enough to grasp them both, but Akaashi moaned into his mouth and raised his freed hand almost shyly to twist his own nipple, which Bokuto found arousing for all sorts of reasons. 

When they were done, Bokuto laid on the bed with his arms outstretched. Akaashi didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move, either. The lamps weren’t charmingly purple, but they were inset into the ceiling and cast the rest of the mysterious room in shadows. 

“You lost,” Bokuto announced. “You touched me first.”

“Did I.”

“You did, you did. Akaashi did.” Bokuto rolled onto his side. Akaashi had his eyes closed, hands polite on his stomach. He smelled like sweat and sex and something else, something more bold and clean. 

“Have you decided the punishment?” Akaashi finally asked, after inhaling a suspiciously annoyed sounding breath. 

“I brought a book today. It’s about volleyball. I want you to read it out loud to me.” Bokuto grinned past his arm. “You wanna?” 

“Oh.” Akaashi tilted his head, almost curiously, which only mussed up his hair more against the smiley round cushion. “… I’d like that.” 

  


* * *

  


“You got nice legs, Akaashi,” Bokuto said, holding up the cosplay menu. This hotel only had rectangular beds, but offered an outfit ordering service. Akaashi hummed distantly, flipping through the pages of Bokuto’s book. Their clothes had been sloppily thrown on the floor, leaving a nice view of Akaashi’s bare legs. 

“What do you think about a nurse costume? It’d really show off your legs.” 

“I don’t have a medical degree,” Akaashi said. 

“Oh! Can’t do that, then.” Bokuto dropped the menu on the bed and brushed the back of his knuckles thoughtfully on Akaashi’s thighs. “But really, your legs are nice. See ‘em during practice, too. They’re nice there, too.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Really would like to fuck them,” Bokuto said wistfully. 

“All right,” Akaashi said, pinching a page of the book and flipping past to a previous chapter. “There’s lubricant on the side of the bed.” 

And fucking Akaashi’s thighs went well, all things considered, and Bokuto offered, “You can fuck a part of me, too,” which Akaashi considered while wiping down his thighs, and that’s how he ended up straddling Bokuto’s waist and trying, a bit in vain, to fuck his chest. Bokuto tried to shove his pecs together, but there still wasn’t enough friction, and Akaashi pressed his wet hand down as a sort of bridge. Bokuto choked on his laughter, inhaling far too much of the heavy petroleum scent of the lube that rolled down his chest. 

“It’s not working, Akaashi!” 

“It’ll work,” Akaashi said serenely, like he wasn’t sitting on top of him while humping mostly his hand, balls slapping against Bokuto’s chest. 

“No, it’s definitely not working—”

“Give it time,” Akaashi said diplomatically, but his soft smirk gave away his meaning, which set Bokuto off into another round of laughter. 

Since the hotel offered a food service, too, Bokuto vied for a honey toast. It was slow eating for a single cake, strangely enough, despite Akaashi’s enormous appetite and Bokuto’s vacuum stomach. Whenever Bokuto raised his fork to his mouth, he would stop and have something else to say. Whenever Akaashi cut his fork neatly into the toast, taking some from Bokuto’s side of the cake, he would eventually stop chewing and ask another question. 

“I’m curious, Akaashi,” Bokuto said, setting down his fork and swiping where the cake had landed on his bare thigh. “What would’ve been your punishment for me?” 

“I suppose I would have asked you to share a secret.” 

“Oh, that’s a good one. I want to do that! Let me see.” Bokuto shoved his knee underneath the little table, which wobbled perilously on the bed. He slid his calves over Akaashi’s thighs until his foot was neatly settled near Akaashi’s ribs. Akaashi absently wiggled Bokuto’s toe, and resumed eating. 

“I can’t think of anything,” Bokuto said, outraged. “You know all my secrets! How’d that happen?”

“Who knows.” 

“It was like that in high school, too.” Bokuto drooped over the table, and then brightened up. “Wait, Akaashi! I thought of something! I just found out about this, but I wonder if I have a daddy kink.” 

“I see.” Akaashi shrugged. 

“We should try it out.” Bokuto worked his way over another piece of toast, chewing thoughtfully. “You got anything like that?” 

“I suppose,” Akaashi said thoughtfully. “It’s along the same lines. I’ve been wondering if I have a penchant for dirty talk.” 

“You want to try it?”

“If you’d like.”

“Okay! Akaashi,” Bokuto said, “you’re a really patient, hard-working, and good-looking slut.” 

“Thank you,” Akaashi said. “And when you’re not incessantly bothering the first-years, I suppose some would consider you a good boy.” 

“Oh. Thanks.”

They finished off the food in thoughtful silence. Bokuto shoved the table to the side and flopped down on the bed. Akaashi still sat up, chin hooked over his knee and fingers over his shin. 

“It probably doesn’t work if we do it at the same time,” Akaashi decided. 

“I don’t know about that, Akaashi. It’ll work.” Bokuto grinned up at him. “Give it time.” He was rewarded with Akaashi’s slow and affectionate smirk. 

  


* * *

  


They came back from a training camp retreat, which meant they hadn’t been able to do anything particularly sexy for a week. Bokuto suggested they book a hotel room for the entire night to ensure a sex-a-thon, and Akaashi acquiesced, as long as they changed the name to something proper, like a sextravaganza. They were going to go directly to the hotel, except Bokuto saw a bookstore and wanted to buy another book for Akaashi to read to him, so they ducked inside. Bokuto found a good book, the cover of a muscular man, which he said reminded him of himself. Akaashi, in turn, held up a book with a wailing child on the cover and said this resembled Bokuto far more. The purchases went well enough, too, except they passed by a cluster of stores, and since they were spending the night at the hotel, Bokuto wanted some fresh change of clothes, and Akaashi said as long as it was comfortable and warm, then it was fine, but he ended up picking out a t-shirt that was on sale. Which went along smoothly, except it was a nice evening and so they wound up taking the long way by a canal, and the trees had turned a crisp red and the dried leaves tumbled by their feet. It was nice, really, to see how the trees were aflame with sunshine yellow, and how they were all reflected in the water below, too. Two autumns, each more lovely than the last. Even though the night air grew chilly, there was still briskness in the air, which hurried Bokuto along to a restaurant and they might as well eat, so by the time they finally reached the hotel, it was already later in the evening. In the end, they discussed how the training camp went along, and Bokuto experimentally wrapped the magic wand in a towel to try and give Akaashi a dubious shoulder massage. 

Bokuto woke up in the early morning. He was spooning Akaashi, and he had a thought. 

“Akaashi,” he whispered. “We didn’t have sex.” 

He thought Akaashi must have still been asleep. The hotel room was quiet except for the hum of a distant machinery. The pillows and sheets felt starched and unfamiliar, but Akaashi’s familiar hair was pressed up against his arm. 

“Calm down,” Akaashi finally said. 

“Okay,” Bokuto said. “But we didn’t have sex.” 

“It’s fine. Calm down.” Akaashi twisted around to face him, his mouth a line of ‘I’m being strong, this isn’t a big deal, except it is.’ 

“Right. Yeah. We could still have sex.” Bokuto blinked at the clock. “Wait! But we have to check out soon.”

“That’s fine,” Akaashi said. “We’ll have sex at—your place.” 

“My place?” 

“It will be,” Akaashi said, “meaningless.” 

“Okay.” Bokuto breathed. “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”

It was still early morning when they walked out. The day was reluctantly stirring, the trees a brush of warm paint on the horizon. 

Bokuto mumbled an apology for the state of his apartment, and Akaashi carefully put down his bag by the door. Even though Bokuto’s sheets were stirred into a lump, Akaashi untangled the knots and sat down on the bed. Having meaningless sex was easy, except for the parts where Bokuto was caressing Akaashi’s side and looked down at his hand and said “oh” and Akaashi looked down and said “I see” and then tentatively kissed his neck, intimate and warm, and Bokuto was careful above him, and sometimes Akaashi would simply press their foreheads together, noses touching, and breathe with huge swallows of breath, and Bokuto would brush the hair from Akaashi’s face and frame his cheek with his hand and kissed down his chest and Akaashi would slide his hands over Bokuto’s shoulders and arms and held his hand, entangling their fingers, and when Akaashi came, voice a luxuriant moan across the quiet room, Bokuto mumbled, “I got you, I got you,” and kissed his ear and Akaashi said, “Yes,” and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. 

“Hey, Akaashi,” Bokuto said, squashed close to Akaashi on his small bed. 

“I’m here.” 

“Hey. Hey, Akaashi.” 

“I’m still here.” 

“That didn’t really feel meaningless to me,” Bokuto admitted. He heard Akaashi softly inhale. 

“We’ll try again,” Akaashi said. “That was just—a fluke.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. A fluke. You’re right, Akaashi!”

And it started off perfectly meaningless, with Bokuto sitting as polite as he could and saying, “Please take care of me,” and Akaashi giving him the look that said ‘what are you doing, what is he doing, I have no idea what he’s doing, but I suppose I’ve accepted this part of my life, he must never know I find this endearing’ and then kissing him. They were still sweaty from the last round, and Bokuto laughed at the squeaking noises between their bodies, and he said, “Akaashi farted, Akaashi farted,” and Akaashi sighed and said, “I believe you were the one farted—I heard it—very loudly, like this—” and blew a soft raspberry into Bokuto’s neck which sent him reeling back in laughter. Akaashi was lying down on top of him, chin resting on his crossed arms. When Bokuto tried to stop his hiccup laughter, he thought he saw Akaashi smile fondly up at him, simply watching, and then Akaashi was sliding down his hand, thumb stroking the small of his back, and it turned from funny ha-ha to oh. Afterwards, they were tangled up in each other, but Bokuto didn’t want to move. Akaashi was jammed up against him, but he seemed content, watching the ray of early afternoon light that illuminated a square of hardwood floor. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said, trying and failing to keep a whine of panic from his voice. 

“I know.” Akaashi frowned. “Listen.”

“I’m listening! I can’t listen any harder than this!” 

“Listen,” Akaashi said, “We simply had too much erotic energy. This time will be better. You’ll see.”

“Am I listening or seeing?”

This time, Akaashi was lying underneath him. It was strange to have Akaashi in the place he usually jerked off, like this was a masturbatory fantasy. Akaashi’s hair was tussled, mouth parted, pupils dilated and wide, hickey still forming on his chest, and he could still remember the mirror in the hotel room and Akaashi explaining, almost clinically, how hickeys bruised, and if Bokuto would like to try, he might as well, since Akaashi could cover it up with a bandage for a week or so, anyway, and Bokuto closed his eyes. He scrunched his face, trying to focus on the weight of his hand, but he felt Akaashi kiss him gently on his nose and Akaashi’s hands petted his face, drifted to the back of his neck, pulled him closer. 

“Akaashi,” he mumbled. 

“I know.” Akaashi stroked his hair.

The afternoon light penetrated the thin curtains. Someone was sweeping the leaves outside. The scratching of a dry broom was followed by the tumble of crisp leaves. Akaashi had thrown his arm over Bokuto’s chest, his elbow bony against his stomach. 

“I think I was lonely,” Bokuto said. “Weird, right? Because I had friends. Have friends. And volleyball, and I was busy, trying to keep up with everything. And if you’re lonely, wouldn’t you know if you were lonely? But it was all weird, and I guess that’s why I was jacking off so much. Because it was kinda nice and comforting and easy.” 

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. It’s just, in high school, with you. I didn’t have to worry about that kind of stuff. Maybe I wasn’t good at taking care of you, like I should have, Akaashi,” he added. “I just did what I wanted.” 

“Really, now.” Akaashi seemed distracted by a littering of jackets on the floor. “I suppose it’s true that you didn’t hide any secrets from me. You were capricious and willful. If anything was on your mind, you’d tell me, regardless of the appropriateness of the situation.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto said. “I understood every word you just said.”

“But it was easy to know you.” Akaashi folded his fingers. “After you graduated, I did attend a few group dates. More as a fill-in. It wasn’t very extravagant or unpleasant, but I’d forgotten it was difficult to get someone to trust you so completely. To know someone, to get them to rely on you, so completely, that they would act selfishly without fear. The confidence that you’d stay with them.”

“Oh,” Bokuto said. “Did you have a good time, anyway?”

“The food was acceptable,” Akaashi said. 

“That’s good.” 

“Yes. But I didn’t understand the company, since they weren’t inappropriately forthcoming with their personal lives. It’s difficult to get close to a stranger.” Akaashi frowned, and then added, sulkily, “You spoiled me.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, Akaashi.” 

“I’m clearly still here.”

“I think—” Bokuto frowned. “I think we’re close.” 

“No,” Akaashi said. “Maybe.” 

“Maybe even—close friends.”

“That’s unlikely,” Akaashi said. “But perhaps true.” 

“And maybe, maybe, except not even maybe, I do,” Bokuto said, “I want to get really close to you. As close as I can, as close as you like. I mean, I don’t know, Akaashi. I can’t figure out my laundry and I can’t cook and it’s hard to keep a schedule and I don’t know. But since we’re apparently friends, and if you’re lonely and I’m lonely, if you’re okay with it—do you want to try?”

A gust of wind bustled against his window. Outside, he could hear a small pack of leaves scramble and tumble against the cement, and a plastic bag rustled, and the broom began again. Akaashi kissed him on the cheek. When Bokuto turned to face him, Akaashi was already rutting against him, in slow and unhurried jerks of his hips. Bokuto had to squeeze his arm between Akaashi and the wall to slide his hand down his back, fondling him clumsily. Akaashi dipped his face into the crook of Bokuto’s neck, breathing shakily, and Bokuto could feel Akaashi’s mouth quietly twitch into a smile.


End file.
